


Awaken as a Stranger

by HarkerFiction



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Amnesiac Courier (Fallout), Character Development, Female Courier - Freeform, Original Character(s), Trans Female Character, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:42:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27295117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarkerFiction/pseuds/HarkerFiction
Summary: Just a routine delivery gone awry.Half dead, head full of lead, where will this Courier fly?Based on my first time experiences with New Vegas, as well as my first fanfiction.
Kudos: 7





	1. Last Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue

The unearthing of the dirt was the first thing she heard, hazy swears coming in soon after she tried to move. Pain blossomed in her right shoulder and head, blood dripping from a wound, matting the back of her hair.

“You got what you were after. So pay up!”

She tries to move again, her leather gloves creaking against the material binding her. Turning her hands, she finds the rope solidly tied on her wrists, attempting to pull, break… anything to escape the number one problem before her.

“You’re crying in the rain pally.” The words came from an irritating voice, making her reminisce of local bullies who thought they were untouchable.

“Heh! Guess who’s waking up ove’ here!”

Strained, she raises her head towards the voices, seeing an odd grouping of people, the checkered suit catching her eye. 

The suit drops his cigarette, grinding it into the cold ground. “Time to check out.”

_So the suit here is king bully here…_

“Will you get it over with?”

“Maybe Khans kill people without looking em’ in the face. But I ain’t a fink, dig?” The suit digs into a coat pocket, bringing out that metallic chip. “You made your last delivery, kid.” He says, putting the chip back into his inner suit pocket, pulling back out with a pistol in hand now. “Sorry you got twisted up in this scene.”

Her hands were flexing, trying to manipulate the rope into becoming looser, but to no avail.

“From where you’re kneeling it must seem like an 18-carat run of bad luck…” the man says, slowly raising the gun to her.  
 _No… No no no no no_

Her hands twist and turn, trying desperately to untie herself.  
“Truth is...This game was rigged from the start.”

One second passes.

Two seconds pass.

_Please don-_

**BANG**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each chapter will be named after a song, true to New Vegas style.  
> This prologue is named after J Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers' "Last Kiss"
> 
> Upload schedule will be as I finish them. I am in school at the moment, so please have some patience with me if I take more time.


	2. Ain't That a Kick in the Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Stranger Awakes

Her eyes fluttered open, straining against the light. Blinking many times, detail begins to come back to her, dust filtering through the light, the old ceiling fan above her slowly spinning. 

“You're awake. How about that.”

She begins to sit up, pain flashing through her, but sits up regardless.

“Woah, easy there, easy.” Helping her into a comfortable sitting position, before sitting back down himself. 

“You've been out cold for a couple of days now. Why don't you just relax a second, get your bearings?” The older man shifted, tilting his head slightly, almost sympathetically.

“Let's see what the damage is. How about your name? Can you tell me your name?”

“My name?” she said in a hoarse voice, “My name is...” She thought for a moment, unsure. The letters in her mind were jumbled, making her sound it out slowly. “La- Lavinia…? Lavinia.” First hesitantly, but then with renewed conviction.

“Lavinia? Huh. Can't say it's what I'd have picked for you. But if that's your name, that's your name. I’m Doc Mitchell, welcome to Goodsprings.” Doc Mitchell says in a friendly tone.

Lavinia, vision still hazy, tries to focus on his face, trying to look him in the eye, but cannot help but look at his mustache.

“Now, I hope you don’t mind but I had to go rootin; around your noggin to get all the bits of lead out.” Somewhat serious this time, Doc’s face slacks somewhat plainly, like he was used to giving out bad news. “I take pride in my needlework, but you better tell me if I left anything out of place.” He reaches over to a surgery cart, taking out a mirror of some sort. “How’d I do?”

She took the machine in her hand, and looked into it, seeing a Hispanic woman, tan brown skin, hazel eyes, and short hair, no doubt that length due to the recent surgery.

“I… I think that’s me alright.” Lavinia says, putting the mirror onto the bed. 

“Well, I got most of it right, stuff that mattered…” He says, almost mumbled. He stands, moving over to Lavinia, “Okay, no sense keeping you in bed anymore.” She begins to stand, pain blurring her vision so much that Doc Mitchell’s balding head almost looked like the sun to her. “Let’s see if we can get you on your feet…” 

She was standing, shakily, but standing. Every fiber of her being ached and screamed, but she stood.

“Good! Why don’t you walk down to the end of the room, over by that vigor tester machine there. Take it slow now.”

He gave her space, taking a few steps back to let her try and walk on her own.

Like a newborn ragstag, her movements were shaky, trembling like a tumbleweed in the Mojave Wasteland.

The small, bumbling steps were victories in her mind. Trying to take longer strides, only just nearing the operating table. 

_ Just a little more… _

But with a bold step, her left leg gave out, casting her down the rough old wooden floor. Doc Mitchell rushed over, helping her up after giving her a quick once over.

He sighed, “I knew I was being silly to think you’d be able to walk without issue already.”   
“S-sorry Doc. I felt okay, but then I lost all feeling in my left leg, it might be some left over nerve damage.” The medical guesswork rolled off her tongue with little effort. Though she did not take notice, Doc Mitchell did.

“Well I’ll be, heh, looks like we have another doctor in the house now.” Doc Mitchell said with a chuckle, happy that some things are coming back to the lady.

“Let’s get you back over to the machine over here.” Giving Lavinia his shoulder to lean on.

“You’re doing good, all things considered, why don’t you give the vigor tester a whirl?” He says, letting her lean on the machine.

Doing a readthrough of the machine, she took the seven tests. With a small tune, the machine printed out a small card.

LAVINIA

STRENGTH 3

PERCEPTION 7

ENDURANCE 2

CHARISMA 5

INTELLIGENCE 7

AGILITY 5

LUCK 5

“Huh, well, you’re not operating at full capacity yet, let’s just say that huh?” Doc Mitchell says in the presence of her score. “We’ll get some physical therapy into you and you’ll be doing dandier than a coyote.” Optimistic despite the circumstance.

The next couple hours were filled with psychological tests and guesswork at a family medical history.

Twilight streamed through the windows, signifying the coming nightfall. 

Placing a hot cup of tea in front of her, he says “You’re more than welcome to spend the next while here, at least we get you moving well enough to survive a fight around here.”    
She sipped the tea, feeling energy come to her weary body. “Thank you, Doc. I’ll try and be out of your hair soon enough.” Her dreary voice sounded.

“Young lady you don’t have any hair to get out of here, take your time. Besides, it’s nice having company.” A small chuckle following.

Darkness fell.

Lavinia was helped limp over to the bed she awoke in, settling in comfortably.

“Good night, Doc.”   
“Good night, Ms. Lavinia.”

_ Today has been… strange, to say the least. Hmm, La Vin ya… weird name…  _

She reached up to the two scars that now rest on her head, feeling the needlework up and down.   
_ If I’m not dead… that means there’s a reason for that… and whatever that reason is… I’ll find it. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is named after that lovely song that plays often in game. Dean Martin's "Ain't that a Kick in the Head".


	3. A Kiss to Build a Dream On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Physical therapy begins

**CRASH**

“Ouch.” Doc Mitchell said, seeing Lavinia fall down to the ground again for the twelfth time today.

“Doc, please, I’m in enough pain without the patronizing.” Lavinia huffed, pushing herself up until she got her legs under her.

It had been three days since she woke up, desperate to get better she pushed herself to the limit of her current constitution. Slowly regaining necessary muscle and balance.

Each night after the sessions of physical therapy, Lavinia would read or practice some general skills. Ranging from helping Doc mix medicines to doing maintenance on what few guns Doc had. 

He noticed that she refused to touch the laser pistol he had on the shelf, prefering to take the 9mm submachine gun apart, counting and inspecting each component before reassembling the gun with relative ease.

Doc Mitchell allowed her to explore the house to her ability, realizing that trying to make her lay down would irritate the both of them. Plus he counted it as practice for her when she would inevitably leave the house.

Lavinia’s score on the Vit-o-matic Vigor Tester improved slowly, Doc would tell her that she should see improvement in the coming weeks, that her progress was remarkable regardless.

A week after waking, she was able to begin jogging, she could not run for long, but it was progress to them no matter what. Soon doing small errands for Doc and the people around town. The store owner, Chet, was a bit skeptical of the woman, but with enough scowls from people around town, he would also give in and have her help him around the store on occasion.

One morning, Doc woke up to a knock on his bedroom door, he opened it, finding Lavinia, a serious look on her face.

“Doc, where do you keep the ammunition.” Delivered almost deadpan.

“I, uh, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea right now, Ms. Lavinia.”

“Doc, in all due respect, I gotta remember how to shoot. I’m not gonna survive outside of Goodsprings without knowing how to shoot straight.”

The emotion on his face was… mixed. Having cared for her for almost two weeks, he was saddened by the fact she did not want to stay in Goodsprings, but on the other hand…

“Alright. Follow me.”

He walked over to a crooked frame on the wall, grabbing both sides before lifting it and setting it on the floor. Behind it was a hollowed out section of the wall. Boxes of small arms ammunition were stacked there, sorted by calibur.

Grabbing three boxes of 9mm, Doc Mitchell walked out of the room, Lavinia following like a shadow.

After getting permission from Sunny Smiles, Doc set a small firing range behind the saloon. 

Loading the small bullets into a magazine, he set the pistol and clip onto the makeshift table. Stepping aside for Lavinia.

“Now remember, the only rule is, if you point this thing at someone, you shoot to kill. Because like hell they’re gonna give you the same.”

Nodding, Lavinia steps forward, grabbing the 9mm pistol in her right hand, the magazine in her left.

The magazine slides into the pistol with little effort, a small click sounds as the gun locks it in place. She racks the slide, loading the bullet into the gun’s chamber. Points down range at the empty glass bottles, and squeezes the trigger.

The gunshot rings out through the hill of Goodsprings. 

The bottles untouched.

“Dammit.” Lavinia swore.

Doc Mitchell’s laughter rang out, “Well, there’s a reason why you get more than one shot. Go on, try again.”

A small smile graces Lavinia’s lips for a moment, she turns quickly and begins firing down range for the rest of the day. Gunfire and laughter ringing out, a welcome sound in Goodsprings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is named after Louis Armstrong's song by the same name, inspired by his later rendition of it, which I feel has a lot more emotion.


End file.
